


Like Nothing Has Changed

by Sherlyjohn



Series: Who Mourns for the Living [1]
Category: Captain America (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Angst, Bucky Barnes Needs a Hug, Cute, Eventual Smut, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Slow Burn, Steve Rogers Feels, Steve Rogers Needs a Hug, but not in this part, part of a series, recovering bucky, relationship, sad Steve
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-29
Updated: 2016-01-29
Packaged: 2018-05-17 01:58:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,881
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5849629
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sherlyjohn/pseuds/Sherlyjohn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Steve finally gets Bucky back from Hydra's grasp, will things go back to normal? Both of them navigate the new world and their rolls in in together. </p><p>Part 1 of the Who Mourns for the Living series, a Bucky/Steve-centric series. </p><p>Enjoy!!</p>
            </blockquote>





	Like Nothing Has Changed

__

 

“Sir?”

“What is it JARVIS?”

“Captain Rogers is being attacked by Sergeant Barnes.”

“What?” Tony stood up, “Where?”

“In the guest bedroom on the Captain’s floor.”

Tony summoned his suit. Parts flew to him in quick succession and he murmured for them to go faster. Once he was suited up, he ran to the elevator, jabbing the up button, heading to Steve’s floor. He clanged to the guest bedroom, throwing the door open, and nearly tearing it off it’s hinges.

“Jesus.” He breathed.

Steve stood by the window, climbing onto the ledge, looking as though he was planning to climb out the window entirely.

Tony hurried forward and pulled him roughly back from the ledge.

“The hell-“

Steve turned to face him and Tony broke off. He face was purpled in bruises and he heaved in short breaths through wheezing lungs. He held a hand to his ribs and winced.

“Hey, uh…” Tony paused taking off his helmet entirely. He was not equipped to handle this; he pretty much sucked at emotions in general, preferring to shove it down in spurts of alcoholism and insomnia. He should call Nat or Bruce.

Steve turned his face away, back to the window.

Tony stayed rooted to the spot, “Steve, what the hell? You can’t keep letting him do this to you.”

“S’nothing.” Steve murmured, letting out a shaky sigh.

“Yeah, a big giant purple of nothin’.” Tony commented, inching closer.

Steve wouldn’t meet Tony’s eyes.

“Do I need to call Bruce?” Tony asked after a moments silence.

“No.” Steve responded, “I’ll heal.”

Tony moaned, “Okay I’m sick and tired of this stiff upper lip crap you always pull. For one goddamn moment in your life will you tell me that you're not fine and ask for some fucking help?”

Steve sank to the floor, either too tired to stand any longer or too emotionally exhausted, Tony wasn’t sure which. He sank down next to him, feeling awkward and clunky in his suit.

“You’re right.” Steve whispered, barely audible, “I’m not fine.”

Silence filled the room, Steve trembled slightly.

Tony felt oddly like he was a priest in a confessional by the way Steve admitted that to him. As though it was some great sin.

“You don’t have to stay you know. I can manage on my own.” Steve’s voice broke Tony’s musings.

Tony nodded, “I know you’re a big boy and all, but you need someone here. Did the Soldier leave?”

Steve stiffened slightly at the mention of Bucky. The more Tony thought about it the more he realized that Steve and Bruce were the only ones not completely suspicious of the Winter Soldier’s motives for coming back out of the blue after Steve and Sam had scoured all of Europe searching for him.

“Went right out the window. Don’t know how he managed it.”

“What the hell made him go Muhammad Ali on your ass?”

“I shouldn’t have gone into his room without telling him.” Steve muttered, nearly to himself, “but he was having this horrible nightmare and he was screamin’ and I couldn’t just sit there and do nothin’.”

“Steve…” Tony began slowly, this was certainly out of his territory. He should really call Pepper right this instant, “You have to stop this.”

“He just roughed me up a little. It was an accident; I don’t think he knew who I was or where he was. He was just confused.”

Tony sucked in a great breath and puffed it out slowly.  _ Don’t get angry, Tony _ . He told himself.  _ Keep a level head and call someone else to deal with this _ .

“Cap… he… he really hurt you. You look terrible.”

“I’ll heal.” He replied defiantly.

“But… Cap! He’s supposed to be your friend. Last time I checked, friends don’t give other friends the old ‘one-two’.”

Steve huffed a breath and faced him, “He was scared outta his mind, Stark. It’s my fault for confusing him.”

Tony huffed, “your fault? He’s the one who hurt you!”

“It isn’t so bad. I’ll heal. It’s him we have to worry about he just took off and-“ Steve paused to stand, grunting in pain and grabbing his ribs.

Tony helped Steve up but he shrugged off his arm. “I’m fine, okay?”

“Sure, alright.” Tony scoffed.

Steve staggered away from the bed, heading out of the room and towards the elevator.

“Woah, what do you think you’re doing there solider?” Tony clanged forward and stood in front of him.

“Going to find him.”

“I don’t think so.” Tony replied, putting  firm hands on his shoulders and steering him back to his own bedroom.

“I need to make sure he’s alright.” Steve struggled against Tony’s grip on his shoulders.

“Judging by the state of you, I’d say he doesn’t want to be bothered. I think he needs some space.” Tony said.  _ Since when did he become the rational one? _

“But-“

“No ‘buts’, Capsicle. You’re going to hop right into bed or I’ll make Widow guard you.”

Steve sighed, looking resigned, but sank back into bed.

“That’s better, now you heal. And we can look for him in the morning.” Tony told him firmly, turning away. “And if you get out of my bed JARVIS will tattle on you. Got it, Spangles?”

Steve sighed in response and Tony took it as confirmation, leaving the room, and clicking the door shut behind him.

Bucky had really done a number on him, Steve thought, sighing as pain spiked through him again.

He closed his eyes. Bucky had been doing okay. Getting used to the tower and everyone inside. But something triggered him, set him off. Steve needed to fix him.

 

_ Five months earlier _

 

“This is it. He’s here. I can feel it.”

Sam didn’t reply. Steve had said this every time they entered a Hydra base, and not once had they found any sign of Bucky. Sam didn’t know what was worse, seeing Steve get his hopes up just to have them dashed, or him not having any hope at all.

Steve glanced his way, then his eyes fixed back on the road.

“We’ll find him.” Sam told him trying to convince them both.

But he wasn’t there. The Hydra base had the look of a place that had been ransacked. All the files on each computer were empty and the entire base was deserted. And it looked like they left in a hurry.

“Shit.” Sam pinched the bridge of his nose with his fingers. They got back into their car and Sam drove this time, speeding down the highway. Steve didn’t speak for the remainder of the drive, his hands balled into fists on his lap.

They made it into the hotel room and Steve threw his bag on the bed, looking out the window at the French countryside. Hills sloped in all directions, a weak sun shining through the clouds. He gripped the windowsill, his knuckles turning white.

“Hey, I’m gonna go and get some food from the restaurant downstairs. You want anything?” Sam asked him. Steve shook his head, continuing his scrutiny of the window. He heard Sam let out a small sigh before closing the door with a click.

Steve turned back to the empty room, his shoulders slumping and he dropped his neutral mask, replaced by a tortured expression.

“Where the hell are you, Bucky?” He asked the empty room. Sitting on the edge of the bed, he tugged at his blonde hair.

He didn’t sleep that night. As a matter of fact, he’d hardly slept any nights since they started looking for Bucky. The lack of sleep was making him clumsy and impairing his fighting abilities. He forced himself however, to lie down and close his eyes, dammit, he needed some rest after all.

He awoke a few hours later with a loud gasp, bolting upright in bed. He heaved air through his lungs, gazing around in the dark. Bucky’s dead-looking eyes still gazing at him through the darkness; the remnants of his dream. 

“Buck-“

“Steve. You with me?”

Steve blinked. That wasn’t Bucky’s voice. But his face had been inches from Bucky’s.

“Steve?”

He blinked again and Bucky disappeared. He heaved a gasping breath and finally locked eyes with Sam.

“Steve? Can you tell me where you are man?”

“Where…”

“Tell me where we are.”

“B-bridge… he’s… it’s so noisy.”

“Steve… look around man, take a few deep breaths.”

Steve sucked in some air through his lungs and blinked. The dim room came into sharper focus.

“You know where we are?”

“France. L-looking for Bucky.”

“Good. That’s great.” Sam sighed, sitting on the edge of Steve’s bed. Steve felt the ruminates of the nightmare slowly sliding off him, his heart calming slightly. Tears slid down his cheeks followed by a red flush. He was thankful it was too dark for Sam to see him.

“You okay, man?” Sam asked quietly.

Steve nodded, gulping in huge amounts of air, “m’fine. Go back to bed, Sam. Sorry I woke you.”

“Don’t apologize.” Sam patted Steve on the back before returning to bed. Steve got up and pulled on a jacket. He went onto the balcony that overlooked the sloping hills, now just quiet silhouettes and dark shadows in the moonlight. He took in a breath of warm summer air and closed his eyes. Bucky’s face had been so vivid, so real, and so haunting. He shuttered at the thought and sighed. He could feel himself unraveling slowly, the longer it took to find him, the quicker he fell apart. 

Another month later, they found him. He was in a Hydra base in the north of France, it looked as though he had not wanted to be taken prisoner again. They found him in the middle of a pile of bodies, knife in one hand, file in the other. 

Sam and Steve convinced him to come back with them. Well, mostly Steve had.

“Just hear me out. You know you can’t trust Hydra.” Steve told him indicating the pile of bodies. His shield lay on the ground next to him and hands raised in surrender. Steve stared past the blade of Bucky’s knife, into his face.

Bucky locked eyes with him. His eyes flickering with barely-controlled emotion. 

“But you think I can trust you?” He growled back, blood dripping from his knife, a crimson drop on the white tile. 

“You can trust me, Bucky.” Steve whispered, “They tortured you, turned you into something you’re not. Have I ever lied to you?”

“I DON’T KNOW.” Bucky shrieked, stepping forward and pressing the blade to Steve’s throat.

“Kill me if you think that will help you, but I can protect you, Bucky. ‘Till the end of the line, remember?” 

A tense silence followed these words, and Bucky huffed out a small breath before releasing Steve. Sam visibly relaxed behind them and Steve flashed Bucky a tentative smile.

Bucky gave him a hard glare, a look of confusion mingled with disbelief, finally, in a small voice Bucky uttered, 

“I don’t know where else to go.” 

“Then come with us.” Steve held out a hand, as an invitation. Bucky glared at it and then trudged back up the corridor.  

But he had gone with them, and that was a start.

They made it to a new hotel closest to the base, and settled into a room.  

“Buck, look at me.” Steve whispered, tentative hands reaching out to his friend. Bucky flinched away but raised his eyes to Steve’s. He sat on a hotel bed, eyes locked and tension crackling between them like electricity. It wasn’t the good kind.

“Do you… do you remember me?” Steve asked tentatively. 

“I remember holding you… and you were shakin’ like a leaf and I just sat in our bed and held you. I told you that those bullies weren’t gonna hurt you anymore and that I’d take care of you.” Bucky stopped abruptly, looking as though he had said too much.

Tears welled in Steve’s eyes and he smiled,

“That’s right Buck.”

“But who the hell’s to know that was even my memory.” Bucky spat, standing and pacing the room, pulling out his small blade again.

“I can. I remember that night. I mouthed off to four fellas after school and they beat me to hell, nearly an inch of my life. It was the worst beating I ever got, and you… you saved me and took care of me.”

Bucky stopped his pacing and threw Steve a curious look, “Why’d ya have to antagonize ‘em? Why did you let them touch you? Why didn’t you run?”

Steve chuckled and Bucky approached, his face serious.

Steve shook his head, “Because I don’t back down from a fight.”

Bucky shook his head too, “And you nearly let me kill you on that hellicarrier.”

“I wasn’t gonna hurt you, Buck, you know that-“

“But I don’t know that! Don’t you see? I don’t know who to trust or where I am or even who I am. I just know that I get these memories of you and I can’t shake them from my mind, they worm their way in-“ He pressed a metal finger to his skull, “And I can’t shake ‘em.”

Steve was silent for a few moments. “Are they good memories?”

Bucky blinked at him, a puzzled look crossing his face, “Good? I don’t know what’s good or bad anymore.”

A shiver ran down Steve’s spine, Bucky’s eyes were empty again, no pain, no confusion, just empty sockets.

“Bucky-“

“Don’t call me that. Your friend was the kind of person who helped people. He pulled scrawny kids out of fights and followed his friends into battle. I don’t deserve that name. I am an asset, redesigned. Not worthy of your friend's name. Your friend is gone, Captain. I am an asset.”

“But-“

“I’m going out.” Bucky left the hotel room before Steve could respond. He sighed and buried his face in his hands. 

He wouldn’t let his hope die, he let it burn, bright and dangerous inside of him. If he lost hope in his friend, he would lose himself in the process.

 

•••••••

 

Bucky kept his distance for the following weeks. He wouldn’t sleep, and hardly ate, but at least he stayed.

“You think he’s getting better?” Sam asked Steve quietly one night, in the dim hallway outside of the hotel room.

“I think so.” Steve lied confidently, “I think he remembers more each day.”

Sam nodded, concealing his doubt from Steve.

“Do you think it’s safe to take him back to the tower with us, maybe at least get him integrated back into New York. He can live where he wants…”

Steve nodded thoughtfully, “I think we should ask him. See if he wants to come back with us.”

The door opened behind them and Bucky stood in his boxers, a scowl fixed on his lips.

“You know, you could just ask me these things.” He deadpanned.

Steve turned to him and sighed, “Of course Buck-“

Bucky shot him a deeper scowl, “I told you not to call me that.”

“What do you want me to call you huh?” Steve snapped, throwing his hands up, “Would you rather I call you Soldier? Give you orders and march you along?”

“Steve-“ Sam cautioned.

“No, Sam, hang on.” Steve put a hand up to stop him, eyes still fixed on Bucky.

“I could call you James. That was your given name, you know. The one your mother gave to you!”

“I told you,” Bucky growled, “I don’t deserve those names I-“

“Like hell you don’t. You’re still my friend and I should be able to-“

“You’re not my friend, how could you be after I spent my entire life trying to kill you.”

“No, not your entire life. If you only remembered-“

Bucky paled and Steve closed his mouth.

“Well now, there’s the rub, isn’t it.” Bucky grinded out, “ _ If only I remembered. _ That would just be peachy for you, wouldn’t it? To have your precious Bucky back and everything would be dandy.”

“That’s not what I meant-“

“Then what exactly did you mean, Rogers? You want me to be someone I’m not, you want me be  _ him. _ ”

“No, I want you to start feeling better. I know you’re not eating, or sleeping. I want you to move on from this Hydra mess and I want to see you smile for once, because you deserve it.” Steve sighed, his breath heaving with emotion.

Bucky ran his metal hand through his hair and sighed too, his eyes growing tired. “Don’t get your hopes up.” He grumbled, closing the door with a snap.

Sam patted Steve on the back before retreating to his hotel room. Steve waited outside the door for a while before he stopped hearing movements inside. He opened the door, all the lights were off, and Bucky was sprawled on his bed, metal arm glowing in the moonlight. His mouth was open in a loud, gaping snore, muscles on his shoulders relaxed and eyes closed. Steve watched him for a moment, a smile playing around his lips. It felt good to see Bucky finally letting his guard down. Steve fell asleep mere minutes later, fully clothed.

 

••••••

 

“Do you honestly think this is a good idea?”

“Yes, I do. Buck came back with us. He’s starting to remember things.”

“And Sam told me he’s still waking up trying to kill you.”

“It’s not like that Natasha.” Steve sighed, “He just… forgets where he is, or who he is and he was defensive.”

Natasha snorted, “Sam said he choked you and you passed out. You did nothing to stop him.”

Steve sighed again, “It’s not… you don’t understand.”

“But you think he should come back to New York, back to the tower? Living with all of us?”

“I know it sounds nuts, but Natasha, he has nowhere else to go. I’m all he’s got.”

Natasha paused, “Or he’s all you’ve got.”

Steve didn’t respond.

“Look, Steve, I get it okay. He’s your friend, and you want him to be better. But don’t you think forcing him back to New York will make it worse. I think he needs freedom and space, to remember who he is.”

Steve shook his head, gripping the phone tighter, “But he’s… I… I can’t abandon him again.” Steve’s voice was hushed and timid, strained by pain.

 “Steve… look this isn’t my call. It’s yours and Barnes’. Talk to him, and figure this out.” Natasha hung up.

“I want to go back to New York.”

Steve turned to see Bucky framed in the doorway, he stood in his boxers, his long hair dripping from a shower onto his bare chest. Steve stared pointedly at Bucky’s face.

“You do?”

“Yes.” Bucky dragged the towel through his hair, “I want to go back to Brooklyn. See if it triggers any memories for me.”

A bright light of hope glowed fondly in Steve’s chest. “Sure Bu-, sure.”

Bucky nodded and went to put on a shirt. Steve’s eyes lingered on Bucky’s frame, noting the old bruises on his back and around his flesh arm. He looked away and began packing his things, “We can leave tomorrow. If you want...”

Steve turned and Bucky was two inches from his face.

Steve started but did not back away. He stared into those eyes. They had lost some of their dead look, replaced with a veiled curiosity.

“I…”

“Shhh.” Bucky pressed a metal finger to Steve’s lips. Tension crackled between them, hot and fiery. Then Bucky backed off, closing his eyes for a moment. When he opened them, the curiosity was gone, replaced by the deadened look. Bucky squared his shoulders and pushed past Steve, out of the hotel room without a word.

Steve sank onto the bed and ran an agitated hand through his hair. He would have to be patient with him. Give him time, Natasha had told him.

Steve groaned audibly, Tony was going to have a Stark-sized tantrum when he heard about Steve bringing a notorious assassin back to his tower.  

 

•••••••

 

They got back into New York the following evening, Bucky hardly spoke to either of them the whole flight, and they had to deal with getting Bucky’s arm through security, but one show of Steve’s notorious Captain America shield and they were set.

Steve watched the plane descend through the tiny window, to the twinkling city below. He glanced over to see Bucky gazing out the window as well.

“Welcome home.” Steve hummed in Bucky’s ear.

They touched down and Sam got them a cab heading into the city.

“Where do you want to go?” Steve asked Bucky.

Bucky shrugged, “Dunno. Tired.”

“Yeah, I could use some shuteye myself.” Sam acknowledged.

“We could go back to the Avengers Tower, or I still have a place in Brooklyn we could stay in…”

Bucky glanced at both men in turn before looking forward again, “I want to meet your friends, Rogers. Let's go to the tower.”

A smirk played on Bucky’s lips that didn’t entirely reach his eyes. Steve felt a prickling of worry in his stomach but pushed the feeling aside.

“Better warn… I mean, call Stark.” Sam said to Steve.

“Yeah.” Steve sighed and dialed Tony’s number.

“You’re  _ what?” _ Tony’s incredulous voice piped through the other end, “You’re bringing him here?”

“Just for tonight, we’re all jet lagged, and could use some rest. Besides, he came back with us… he’s-“ Steve threw Bucky a sideways glance, he still wore that dark smirk.

“Let me get a quick refresher,” Tony began, voice dripping in sarcasm, “This is the same guy who shot Nat, tried to blow up SHIELD, and beat you half to death, throwing you off the helicarrier.”

“He also pulled me from the water, Stark, so I’d prefer you shut your mouth and trust me for once.” Steve hissed.

Tony snorted, “It’s not you I don’t trust, it’s him.”

“If you don’t want us in the tower, then we’ll go to my place in Brooklyn. I assume it’s still mine since I never turned over the lease.”

Tony issued an exasperated sigh, “You can stay. But I’m going to have to keep tabs on his comings and goings.”

“You’re not going to treat him like a prisoner.” Steve snapped, glancing again at Bucky, who threw him a bemused look. Steve raised an eyebrow at the phone as if to say, ‘this guy’.

“I won't. I’m just making sure he doesn’t, I don’t know, kill you in your sleep or something.”

“Well, we’re coming down the street now,” Steve hung up the call and the cab driver pulled in front of the tower. They paid and got out. Bucky looked around the city, his eyes widened in uncharacteristic shock.

“You alright?” Steve asked him, his hand ghosting over Bucky’s shoulder, not sure if he should touch him or not.

“Y-yeah. It’s just… not what I remembered. Everything’s… a lot brighter.”

“Join the club.” Steve remarked bitterly.

Sam opened the front doors for them and they identified themselves before riding the elevator to the top floors. Bucky’s posture was stiff and his face as hard as stone.

The elevator doors opened swiftly and Tony’s face greeted them, his hair groomed back, goatee perfectly trimmed.

“Hey look,” he yelled to someone in the kitchen, “the three stooges are back.”

Sam shook his head and clapped Tony on the shoulder, “Good to see you man.”

“You too, birdy. So what can I call you? Is Barney Boy too informal? Or would you rather I call you the Winter Soldier?”

Bucky advanced on Tony, curling his hands into fists. Tony was about a foot shorter and had to look up to meet Bucky’s eyes, but he didn’t back down.

“You shut your mouth,” Bucky growled.

“Hey-“ Steve stepped between them, giving Tony a warning glance. Bucky breathed heavily and stepped back. Steve was surprised he stopped Bucky from attacking Tony at all.

“Don’t take it personally,” Clint said, jumping out of the nearest air duct, Bucky whipping around to meet his gaze, “Stark is a dick to everyone he meets.”

“You’re-“

“Clint Barton.” Clint held out a hand and Bucky paused, then stuck out his flesh hand to shake Clint’s.

“You’re Hawkeye, trained SHIELD agent and marksman, you-“

“Hey, let's not get into naming rank right now, huh?” Sam offered, keeping his tone offhand. Bucky paused, thinking it over before closing his mouth.

Natasha sidled into the room, crossing her arms over her chest and squaring her shoulders.

“You uh… remember Natasha.” Steve supplied lamely, looking from each assassin in turn.

Natasha mumbled something in Russian and Bucky replied, a rough smirk tugging at his mouth again. Natasha nodded once before leaving the room again.

“What just… you know, I’m not even gonna ask.” Tony sighed, “Well, this has been lovely and all, but I’m going back to work. Don’t blow anything up or kill anyone while I’m gone.” Tony walked away, throwing up a hand in farewell.

“I’m leaving too.” Clint said, climbing back up into the air duct, “see you kids later.”

Sam shook his head, “I’m going to sleep. You need anything, just holler.”

He began to walk away but Steve ran to catch up with him, “thank you.”

Sam shrugged it off with a flippant hand but Steve grabbed his shoulders and pulled him into a hug, “I mean it.”

They broke apart and Sam smiled, “Anytime man. Now get some sleep, you look terrible.”

Steve snorted and bid Sam goodnight.

When he returned to the common room he found Bucky, gazing out the window, to the blinking lights of the city below them.

“It’s a lot louder now.” Bucky commented, the city lights sparkling in his dark eyes.

“I know.” Steve nodded, “When I first woke up… I thought I was in a science fiction novel or something. Thought Howard was pulling a prank on me.”

“Howard...that sounds familiar...”

“Tony Stark’s father. He’s-“

“The man I killed for Hydra.”

Steve stopped dead, throwing him a worried glance, “Yeah…” He coughed, “Better not tell Tony that. He already doesn’t trust you.”

Bucky nodded and looked at Steve.

“They seem to care a lot about you.” He remarked.

Steve nodded, “We’re a team.”

“Why do they care? What’s the point?” Bucky asked, looking legitimately curious.

Steve felt his heart crack a bit at his words.

He closed his eyes for a moment. Bucky’s scent filled him, taking him back to a cold night in Brooklyn. The rain hammering on the windows, a chill settling into Steve’s bones as he shivered violently. Bucky’s large form pulling him closer, engulfing Steve in an embrace, kissing the top of his head. Their bodies intertwined, becoming one. Their foreheads pressed together. They breathed in one another, bodies moving together. Their kisses full of need and desire.

The images flashed before him and he forced them away with a deep breath. He opened his eyes to face Bucky’s curious ones.

“They care because I care, about them, about you. I will keep telling you that every day until you believe it.”

Bucky blinked at him. He withdrew from the common area and Steve sighed, following him.

 

Steve set up a bed for Bucky in his guest room on his floor.

“Holler if you need anything.” Steve told him, throwing him a would-be-casual smile in which Bucky returned a forced one, trying to mirror Steve’s grin.

Steve bid his friend goodnight and closed the door behind him.

_ Why did he care?  _ He asked himself, after stripping to his boxers and collapsing into bed,  _ what was the point? _

A small voice in his head replied,  _ because if you didn’t care about him, you wouldn’t care about yourself. _

And with that thought, he forced himself to get some sleep.

 

•••••

 

A creek in the mattress forced Steve’s eyes open. He blinked around and saw Bucky sitting on the edge of the bed. He sat up quickly.

“Did you used to snore?” Bucky asked him, a bemused grin pulling on his gruff stubble.

“Wha- did you sleep at all?”

“Not with the racket you were making.” Bucky teased.

Steve chuckled and noticed the dark rims under Bucky’s eyes. He must be getting less sleep than him.

“C’mon. You gonna sleep all day?” Bucky tugged at his arm, pulling him out of bed.

Steve shot him a confused look, getting out of bed. He grabbed a t-shirt from the floor and pulled on a pair of sweatpants. 

Bucky’s metal fingers wrapped around his wrist as he pulled him from the bed and down the hall, out of Steve’s floor to the kitchen.

 

Sam sat at the table, talking with Natasha and Bruce, a cup of coffee cradled in each of their hands.

They looked up as Bucky pulled Steve into the room. Sam rose from his chair, confusion crossing his face.

“What are you all eatin’?” Bucky asked, his tone bright.

Natasha glanced at Steve, his confusion reflected on her face.

“Just coffee. But there’s waffles and toast and eggs.” Bruce replied standing, “And I don’t think we’ve met yet. I’m Bruce Banner.” He stuck out his hand for Bucky to shake but Bucky just stared at his hand.

“Let's get some coffee.” Steve suggested, clapping him on the back.

Bucky reacted so quickly that Steve didn’t see him coming. He struck Steve across the face with his flesh hand. Steve recoiled and the three at the table jumped up.

“Jesus,” Sam began, stepping forward. Steve held a hand to stop him, eyes on Bucky. Bucky’s breathing was heavy and his eyes contained that haunted look again.

“B- do you know where you are?” Steve asked him, taking a tentative step forward.

“No.” Bucky breathed, looking horrified as the realization dawned. He took a staggering step back from them all and hauled unsteady breaths out of his lungs.

“That’s okay.” Steve replied calmly, “You’re in the Avengers Tower, in New York, the year is 2015.”

Bucky’s head snapped up. His eyes, if possible, grew wider.

“20…2015?” He hesitated.

“Yeah. I know. Came as a shock to me too.” Steve forced a relaxed sounding chuckle out of his throat while his muscles stayed tense and wound up.

Bucky retreated to the corner of the common area, his back against the wall.

“D-Don’t take them away from me. Not again.” He whispered, barely audible. Steve kept his hands where Bucky could see them and threw a few words back at his teammates.

“Could we um… have the room?” Steve asked them.

They nodded mutely and exited one by one, Natasha stayed near the door, but out of sight.

Just in case.

“I’m not going to take anything away from you, Bucky.” He chanced saying his name and Bucky merely shuttered.

“I’m your friend, Steve Rogers. I’ve been your pal since we were kids in Brooklyn.”

Bucky blinked at him, “You’re the kid who was always covered in blood?”

Steve practically broke down there, because at least he knew who the hell Steve was, but he held it together and flashed a genuine smile.

“That’s right.”

“They’re trying to take my memories away, Steve. Don’t let ‘em.”

“Buck- you’re… you’re safe. We got you out.” Steve approached him and Bucky trembled, drawing his knees up to his chest and hugging them tight. It broke Steve’s heart to see him so vulnerable. He sat in front of Bucky, giving him his distance, but close enough to look him dead in the eyes.

“You hear me? We got you out. We saved you. Hydra can’t get to you anymore. I won’t let that happen.”

Bucky looked back into his eyes, and Steve saw them shift, the darkness turned his gaze into one of stone cold calculation once more.

“They already have.” He hissed, leaping onto Steve.

Bucky pushed Steve into the glass coffee table, which shattered. His head hit the floor with a smack as cold metal fingers tightened around his throat. Steve gasped and choked, trying to pry off the massively strong grip.

“I have to complete my mission. I will not fail again.” Bucky hissed.

Steve heard thudding footsteps as the darkness encroached on the edge of his vision. He gasped and choked for air, but it was impossible to come by.

“Buck-“

The grip loosened and Steve sucked in a huge breath of air, coughing it out and sitting up wildly, making his head spin. A flash of crimson told Steve that Natasha had come to his aid. Natasha and Bucky moved at lightning speed, punching and kicking, both dodging one another’s moves. They looked oddly coordinated, almost beautiful. They knew which move the other was going to make before they did so. Steve supposed the Red Room still kept the same tricks up their sleeves. Bucky landed a nasty punch to Natasha’s stomach, sending her backward. Steve leaped in the fray, pinning Bucky down and muttering desperately, “Please Bucky, snap out of it. You’re not Hydra. You’re my friend. I care about you.”

Bucky kneed Steve in the crotch and sent him keeling off him. Steve winced and hissed, “Buck-“

Bucky landed another punch to his chest with his metal arm and he felt the breath leave his lungs in a whoosh, cracking a few ribs in the process.

“Bucky… Please…” Steve gasped through the pain, his eyes watering as Bucky loomed over him. “I love you.”

Bucky halted in his tracks, face contorted in fear and rage.

Steve took advantage of his hesitance to go on, “I have always loved you. From that first time you pulled me out of that fight, and put your arm around me. I have loved you every time you patched me up, or nursed me back to health . Bucky… please. I loved you and I never really stopped. So you know I won’t fight you. Kill me if you want, because I won’t fight back.”

Steve watched Bucky’s gaze turn from anger to horror in a split second. He sank to the ground beside Steve who sighed.

Footfalls made them turn around. Sam, Clint, and Tony in full armor charged into the living room.

“What the-“        

“Bit of a mess here, sorry Stark.” Steve replied, clutching his throbbing chest.

Clint ran over to Natasha who groaned.

Steve looked back at Bucky, who gazed at him in an almost awed expression.

“But why?” He whispered, so the others couldn’t hear.

“Why what?” Steve replied.

“Why do you love someone like me?”

“Dumb luck, I guess.” Steve grinned lopsidedly. Bucky returned a tentative smile.

Steve sobered as Sam came over, shooting them fervent glances until he noticed Steve, breathing shallowly and grimacing.

He bent down to inspect his wounds.

“You okay?”

Steve nodded, “Think I broke a few ribs, that’s all.”

Sam rolled his eyes but didn’t respond, helping him to his feet. Bucky stood with them, looking downtrodden.

“Rogers I um…” Bucky began awkwardly.

“You can call me Steve,” Steve insisted.

“Okay. Steve. Let’s get you patched up.”

Sam shook his head, “We’ll talk about this later.” He whispered in Steve’s ear before Steve limped over to Natasha and Clint.

“Is she alright?” He asked Clint, who was taking her pulse as her eyes flickered open.

“Just a concussion. I think she’ll be okay… are you… ya know?”

Steve merely nodded before walking toward the elevator with a timid Bucky in tow.

“Where’s the fire, Stark?” Steve asked, trying to sound nonchalant but failing by the wheeze in his breath.

“Well, ya know-“ Tony began, lifting his face plate and looking disgruntled, “I hear your boyfriend attacked you and figured I needed to suit up.” He replied agitated.

“I’m sorry about-“ Steve waved his hand at the broken coffee table.

“That’s not what you should be sorry for. What the hell? You let him attack you? I heard what you said, ‘Kill me if you want, ‘cause I won’t fight back.’ What the Fuck, Rogers? You can’t let him do this to-“

Steve stepped forward, coming face to face with Tony.

“Don’t you dare put this on him.” Steve growled, feeling anger pulse through him, red hot and searing his insides, “Don’t you dare blame him. He is not at fault for  _ any  _ of this. Blame Hydra, hell, blame me, but don’t you dare blame him.”

Tony seemed lost for words, which Steve had to admit, was a first. He didn’t wait for a reply but stalked from the room, Bucky grinning slyly behind him.

 

•••••••••

 

Bruce wrapped thick gauze around Steve’s middle, while Bucky watched.

“JARVIS’ scans show that you broke two ribs and cracked three.” Bruce remarked, looking disgruntled. He glared at Bucky accusingly but Steve smiled,

“It’s alright. I’ll heal.”

Bruce sighed, “Alright, but no sparring today, got it?”

Steve nodded, “You got it, doc.”

Sam entered Bruce’s lab and glanced at the bandages wrapped around Steve’s naked chest.

“Are we good?” He asked Steve.

Steve nodded, a small smile on his lips, “We’re alright.”

Sam looked at Bucky and Bruce in turn, “Can we have the room for a minute?”

Bucky shrugged and Bruce led him out.

The door swished closed and Sam leaned against the metal table where Bruce kept his experiments.

“What the hell happened back there?”

“He reverted back to his Hydra training. I think it was a defense mechanism.” Steve winced, pulling on his shirt, and wheezing slightly.

“You think he’ll do it again?” Sam asked.

Steve shook his head “I’m hoping not. He seems better now. But he changes so quickly… I mean, you saw him at breakfast, he was fine. Almost normal… I never know what to expect.”

“I don’t think he does either.” Sam reasoned.

Steve headed out of the room. Where Bucky and Bruce were waiting for them, not talking to one another.

“Do you want to get some more sleep? Or there’s a lot we can do here.” Steve offered Bucky shrugged, looking disgruntled about something, but not homicidal.

That was good.

They returned to Steve’s floor where Steve dressed and found Bucky in the bathroom, gazing into the mirror. His knuckles were chalk white and his arms trembled slightly. He went to the toilet and threw up, retching.

Steve stood near him, frowning down at his friend.

“You okay?” He asked, after Bucky had stopped retching. He stood and flushed, nodding quickly before leaving the bathroom. Steve waited a moment before following him out, but Bucky had already closed the door, returning to the guest room once more.

 

••••••••

 

Days marched into weeks, and Bucky was, to Steve’s observations, improving. He sometimes ate breakfast with Steve and the others. Other nights he would stand by the door during movie nights, peeking his head in, or simply watching from the door; never taking their offers to come and join them.

The problem was Bucky and Steve were hardly ever alone together. Whenever Steve would try and start a conversation while they were alone, Bucky would make up some excuse to leave the room or simply march off without saying a word.

“It’s because I told him how I felt, isn’t it?” Steve finally voiced his concern one night, sitting with Sam on the couch in the common area. Whenever any of the Avengers couldn’t sleep they would come here, to see if anyone else was awake. And more often than not, someone was.

“I think he’s trying to work things out.” Sam replied thoughtfully, sipping on his beer.

Steve bit into the sandwich he was eating and replied, “I pushed him away, confused him more.”

Sam sighed, “Who knows what goes on in that head of his. But just give it time. He has to re-learn what it’s like to be human. I think he deserves our patience.”

“Spoken like a true counselor, Wilson.” Steve replied, picking up his own beer and clinking glasses with Sam. They drank in silence for a moment.

“You should get some rest, you look dead on your feet.” Sam commented.

“I should say the same for you.” Steve laughed. 

Sam inclined his head and laughed softly, “Touché.”

When neither of them moved to go bed, Sam turned to him.

“Well since we’re clearly not getting any sleep, you up for a movie?” He was clearly keen to change the subject, anything to wipe that sad look off of Steve’s face.

“Sure, alright.” Steve replied.

 

Steve awoke that morning with a stiff neck and bleary eyes, as he had fallen asleep on the couch. Someone had placed a blanket over him as he slept and he had an  idea who it might have been. He sat up and shook his head.

“Good work, Wilson.” He chuckled to himself.

 

•••••••••

 

Steve watched Bucky that week, as he offered small smiles to Sam, playful smirks to Tony, and muttered words in Russian to Natasha. It was like a peace offering, handed to each of the Avengers in turn as though he was handing out white flags.

But not to Steve.

He tried to avoid the feeling of jealousy that crawled under his skin every time Bucky chuckled at a joke Clint made, or the way he held the door for Bruce. He would never admit it, but he was beginning to resent those who were getting such attention from Bucky, when he wouldn’t even look at Steve.

He must hate Steve for the things he said. Must be disgusted by Steve for his proclamation of love. Steve hated himself for it and bitterly regretted ever opening his mouth.

But he still tried to make some sort of contact with Bucky. Whether it was a smile he would throw him, or a simple ‘hello’. Anything to relieve the goddamn tension between them.

 

Steve drifted in and out of sleep one night, his dreams muddled and confused. It was only when he heard a loud cry from the room next door that he bolted upright. Another yelp had Steve out of bed and bursting into Bucky’s room. He lay in bed, thrashing and yelling, his hands gripping the bed sheets.

Steve started forward, as Bucky trembled and moaned. He was pale and sweating, his long hair sticking to his face as it contorted in terror and pain.

“Bucky.” Steve began, reaching out a hand and shaking his shoulder. Bucky didn’t wake, but continued to thrash about. 

“Buck!” Steve said louder, “Wake up!” He shook him again, this time harder.

Bucky’s eyes flew open with a shout and he shot up, eyes wild. They locked with Steve’s and anger replaced the terror. Before Steve could react, Bucky punched him hard in the chest with his metal fist, sending Steve flying to the ground. Bucky leapt from the bed and pounced on Steve, punching him hard in the face.

Steve cried out, feeling pain spiral though his cheek, feeling the bones crack.

“Bucky! It’s me!” Steve hollered.

Bucky had him pinned, straddling him and holding him down with his normal hand while his prosthetic delivered blow after blow. Steve struggled against his grip, yelping in pain.

The sound of the elevator dinging had Bucky off him in seconds. Before Steve could even gather himself, Bucky flew across the room, flinging the window open and crawling out of the tower. Clanging footsteps approached as Steve began to stand. Staggering toward the window just as the door flew open. He didn’t turn around but began to try and crawl through the window after Bucky. He couldn’t even see Bucky’s form in the dark night. 

After Stark had pulled him off the ledge and talked him down from running after him, and. He went to bed, praying that his dreams were kind to him tonight. But of course, God wasn’t so willing.

 

•••••••

 

Fists smacked against leather, smearing blood onto the rotating punching bag. It swung dangerously at every strike, the fists working faster, punching harder. Steve punched over and over again, trying to ignore the roaring in his ears or the visions of Bucky in his head. He blocked it all and focused on punching out all of his anger. His breaths came out in short huffs, loud enough that he didn’t hear a voice calling his name until he delivered a final blow to the bag and it snapped from its chain and went soaring across the room with a loud crash. Steve breathed heavily and looked up at the sound of a voice.

“Wow, and I even strengthened the metal.”

Tony Stark stood in the doorway of the gym. 

“What do you want, Tony?”

“Well I didn’t think anyone would be awake at this hour until JARVIS told me you were in the gym.” Tony looked uncomfortable for a moment, “You’re uh… bleeding.”

“What’s new?” Steve replied dryly, looking down at his hands and noticing his knuckles were cracked and raw looking, with blood trickling down the sides and bruises purpling over his knuckles.

“You know, normal people wear gloves.”

Steve shrugged, “It’ll heal.” He walked off, going to pick up the sandbag.

“Don’t worry about it. I’ll have one of the bots deal with it.” Tony told him but Steve had already picked it up and placed it in a nearby closet. He walked back towards the exit.

“Okay Steve, you know I’m bad at this whole, ‘talk out your feelings’ thing, but if you wanna talk about Barnes then I’m actually a pretty good listener.”

Steve halted at the door and huffed, but didn’t turn around. “I don’t need to talk about him, I need to find him.”

“It’s only been 2 days Steve. And if I recall correctly, you still have ribs to heal, don’t need another trip down memory lane for a chance that Bucky will kick the tar out of you again.”

Steve sighed, it was true that the bruises Bucky had inflicted had dulled to a nagging pain now, but it wasn’t so fiery or insistent anymore.

“Give him time. He needs-”

Steve practically growled, turning to face Tony now, “you have no idea what he needs.”

“Nor do you.”

Steve merely glared so Tony plowed on,

“You need to give Barnes his space. He only just started regaining his memories and he probably has no idea what’s real. You said it yourself, Barnes was scared out of his mind that night he spangled you until you saw stars-“

“But he has no idea what’s out there. Hydra could be waiting for him and-“ Steve interjected but Tony cut him off.

“And you don’t think Barns can handle himself? C’mon Cap, give him a bit of credit. He can clearly hand you your ass, so I think he could deal with Hydra.”

Steve sighed, a dull pain spiking his still healing ribs.

“Get some rest, Tony.” Steve murmured, turning around again.

“I will if you will.”

Steve waved a hand of acknowledgement before exiting the gym.

He didn’t sleep that night, nor the next night, nor a few nights after that. Bucky had been gone a week and Steve dragged himself into the kitchen, eyes shadowed in dark bags.

“Everyone say hello to our Resident Zombie, Steve Rogers.” Tony stated, cradling a cup of coffee, “From one insomniac to another, I commend you.” He lifted his cup to Steve who glowered at him.

“Steve…” Sam sighed, pouring himself some orange juice, “You can’t torture yourself waiting for him to come back.”

“But I can’t risk being asleep if he does.” Steve countered, making a beeline to the coffee pot. He poured himself a mug and nearly chugged the thing.

“Does that stuff even work on you?” Clint asked, coming in, wearing his full mission gear.

“If I drink it fast enough.” Steve replied, pouring himself another cup and downing that too, “SHIELD sending you out again?”

“Not SHIELD, per se.” Clint replied, “since no one is really SHIELD anymore, but yeah, Hill is sending me and Peter Parker into old headquarters Upstate.” Clint rolled his eyes, “Working with Spiderman is more like babysitting than anything else. But he knows the area and Hill says there could be a problem over there.”

Natasha chuckled from her perch on the counter, swinging her legs like a child, too small for her feet to touch the ground.

“Have fun.” She cooed, “I hope Parker shares with  you some of his of spider puns.”

“Kill me now.” Clint moaned, waving to them before heading out.

Sam turned his scrutiny back on Steve, who was popping toast in the toaster next to Natasha.

“How about this, you grab a couple zz’s on the couch this morning, and we’ll watch for Bucky. And if he comes back, you’ll be the first to know.” Sam suggested.

Steve sighed and thought about it for a moment. He supposed if everyone else was keeping watch.

“C’mon Capsicle, we’ll keep our eyes peeled for your boyfriend and you can get your super soldier beauty rest.” 

“Fine.” Steve sighed, slouching over to the couch, his muscles sore from fatigue. He collapsed there and looked back at them.

“You better wake me up if he comes back.”

“Scouts honour.” Tony put up three fingers and winked.

Steve let himself sink into the couch cushions and was asleep in minutes.

Natasha chuckled at the snoring super solider on the couch, “it’ll be good for him.”  

Sam nodded.

“Well, not that babysitting sleeping beauty isn’t a blast or anything, but I’m going to work.” Tony remaked. 

Natasha gasped, “You, work?”

“Yeah alright Widow, but you get new gear because of my ‘work.’”

Natasha shrugged.

Tony left the room, carrying another brimming cup of coffee.

Sam took his orange juice into the living room and sat on the armchair beside sleeping Steve. Natasha brought in a manila file and took the floor where the coffee table had been before it was smashed. She spread her legs out and crossed one over the other, opening the file and studying it.

“Mind if I turn this on?” Sam gestured with the remote to the TV and Natasha shook her head. Sam flicked it on and lowered the volume. He appreciated background noise. Never particularly loved dead silence, even when he slept.

_ “A man in a black mask has been terrorizing gang organizations in Hell’s Kitchen. Some are calling him a vigilante while others think he’s a criminal.“  _ A dark haired reporter stated.

Sam flipped around the channels until he finally sighed, “JARVIS. Put on a movie. Something awesome.”

“You will have to clarify sir.” JARVIS replied.

“Put on Jurassic Park.”

“Alright, done.” JARVIS replied.

The screen switched to the opening scene and Sam settled back, half watching the movie, half watching Steve.

Steve slept like a log. Which, for him, was impressive to say the least. For the near six months that Sam had traveled around the world with Steve, he had never known Steve to be a pleasant sleeper. He was often awoken in the night to Steve’s screams or whimpers. But now, he didn’t even twitch. Sam supposed it was a testament to how tired he was.

Sam and Natasha stayed in the living room with Steve for the remainder of the day, sometimes being joined by Bruce, Tony, or Pepper, but all taking turns watching for The Winter Solider or for Steve to wake up, whatever came first. None of them seemed too eager to tell Steve that Bucky hadn’t come back when he woke up, but they stayed with him anyway. Sam knew that Steve was a big boy and could take a much-needed nap on his own, but he needed all the support he could get, and having someone there when he woke up was always a good feeling, even if Steve would never admit it.

It wasn’t until late at night, when the others had gone to bed, that Sam heard Steve stir at all. Sam woke up to the sound of shuffling and sat up from his curled position in his armchair.

Steve sat up as well, rubbing his eyes, almost child-like.

“Buck… is he here?” Steve asked blearily.

“No, Steve. Not yet.”

Steve’s face fell.  

“He’ll turn up.” Sam clapped Steve on the shoulder.

Steve nodded, unbelieving. He stood and stretched.

“Sir,” JARVIS’ voice rang loud and clear overhead.

“What’s up JARVIS?” Steve asked tiredly.

“I believe I had found Sergeant Barnes.”

Steve perked up and glanced at Sam, “Where?”

“Queens, sir, in Corona Park. Shall I send you directions?”

Steve’s stomach did a fantastic flip, “I know that area pretty well, or knew it at least.” Steve walked out of the room, heading to his floor. Sam followed.

“Want me to come?” Sam asked, leaning against the doorway as they entered Steve’s bedroom.

“No Sam, I have to do this on my own.”

“But Steve…” Sam sighed, mulling over his words before saying, “You need to be prepared for the fact that Bucky may not want to come back with you.”

“Don’t you think I know that?” Steve spat, his temper rising from fatigue and worry, “But I have to try to make Bucky feel at home again.”

Sam nodded, “Well then go get ‘em.”

Steve pulled on a jacket and laced up his shoes before bidding Sam goodbye. He went to Tony’s garage and pulled on a helmet that Tony had wired JARVIS into, grabbed his motorcycle and kicked it on. It roared to life and he headed out into the night.

 

New York flashed by him as JARVIS directed him away from traffic and found the quickest route there. Steve sped across town, the cold wind chilling him through his thin jacket.

“Up ahead, Sir. You’re going to take a right.”

Steve nodded and did so, screeching around the corner. He slowed up a bit and pulled the bike over, turning it off. He removed his helmet and set it on his bike, pocketing his keys and walking forward.

Cars rumbled down the road in front of him, their headlights blinding. He waited for a gap in the traffic before trotting across the street. He entered the park, street lamps casting the trees in daunting shadows. Steve walked down the path, keeping his eyes open. The pavement cracked in places. It looked slightly run-down, and had the look of some place that used to be grand but had faded since. Steve remembered the night he had been here that night with Bucky, all those years ago, to see Howard Stark’s flying car. 

He walked forward slowly, a large globe coming into view, silhouetted against the dark trees. The walkway widened as he headed down a long path, lined with flags of every nation, billowing in the chilly breeze. A few people walked by him, some homeless men huddled in the shadows of nearby trees but hardly anyone was out in the middle of the night. Steve held his gaze on the large globe in front of him, the sound of trickling water becoming more apparent the closer he got. The water surrounding the metal globe flew up in beautiful arches around the structure, the streetlights yellow cast making the water look blindingly white.

A figure sat on the edge of the fountain, head hung, his silver arm shining dully against the nearby lamps.

“Am I crazy, or was there supposed to be a flying car around here somewhere?” Steve inquired.

Bucky’s head snapped up, “That what I thought too.” He remarked, a casual smirk playing at his lips.

“I think we missed it by a few years.” Steve replied, sitting beside Bucky, giving him space but still close enough. A light spray of water misted their backs.

Bucky glanced at him, dark hair hanging over his eyes.

“I kept having these memories. Of that night, of the apartment, of… everything. I had to see if they were real or something that Hydra gave me. I couldn’t be sure until I saw it in person.” Bucky paused, but Steve didn’t say anything so Bucky mumbled, “I went back to the old apartment. The one where we used to… but it’s a big complex now, the whole thing was torn down and newer ones were put in.”

Steve sighed, “I didn’t know.”

“Yeah.”

They looked out onto the dark walkway in front of them for a moment before Bucky turned to him again.

“I’m… well I’m sorry about beating the hell out of you.” Bucky said, a hint of guilt crossing his features.

“Which time?” Steve asked, chuckling.

Bucky glared at him but Steve sighed, “It’s okay… it wasn’t you.”

The sat in silence again before Bucky broke it.

“Were we really… ya know… more than just pals… did you really… love me?”

Steve chuckled softly, “Yeah, Buck, I did. And uh…we were… uh…”

Bucky leaned closer and Steve’s sentence died in his throat.

“Can I test something? Just for science and experimentation.” Bucky assured him.

Steve nodded.

Bucky scooted closer to Steve, lifting his chin with his flesh hand. Steve’s heart pounded in his throat.

Bucky’s lips were inches from his own until after a moment's hesitation, they finally met. Both were tentative at first but soon Steve parted his lips and Bucky explored his mouth, the kiss tasting warm and desperate. Bucky’s hands cupped Steve’s face as they drank each other in. Bucky tasted like a forgotten memory, lingering still. After a few moments they broke apart, both panting with the effort.

“Okay… I remember that.” Bucky breathed, a grin tracing his lips.

“Just like riding a bike.” Steve panted back, grinning.

They looked at each other for a moment longer before Bucky broke his gaze, “But I still don’t remember why… or even how we met, or why we lived together, or why you were always covered in so much goddamn blood.” Bucky’s tone had become dark and nearly threatening.

“And that’s okay. You don’t have to remember it all now.” Steve replied, a kindness in his sad eyes.

Bucky looked back at him, his face cold. “But I’m still not that guy, Rogers. You know that. I’m not the James Barnes that you knew… or loved.”

“And I’m not the same Steve Rogers that went on a double date with you and those two dames here all those years ago.” Steve replied, “And that’s okay. Experiences change us, shape us. No one remains the same, especially those of us who who’ve been through hell and back.”

Bucky sighed, that dead look back in his eyes, “But you were a good man who turned into a hero. I was a decent man who turned into a weapon.”

“ _ They _ turned you into a weapon. But that’s not who you are. I’m not a hero, Buck. I’m just trying to do the right thing. And you’re not what they made you. You’re a good man, you always have been.” Steve put a tentative hand on Bucky’s shoulder. He flinched slightly but did not push him away.

Baby steps.

“Then how do I separate the good man from the bad one, when I don’t know which one is which?”

“I’ll help you.” Steve whispered.

Bucky paused, looking doubtful.

“Let me help you find the good man again.” Steve implored, squeezing his shoulder.

After a long look Bucky nodded. Steve smiled hesitantly and stood.

“Then let’s get you home.”

The two headed down the lane together, side by side, like nothing had changed.

 


End file.
